


Something Undone

by kscribbles



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Post Episode: s04e13 Journey's End
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-03
Updated: 2013-03-03
Packaged: 2017-12-04 05:16:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/706979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kscribbles/pseuds/kscribbles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She was not, she told herself, seducing him.  Thats not why she was here. [Sequel to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/706812">Something Done</a>]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something Undone

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a sequel to [Something Done](http://archiveofourown.org/works/706812), which had innocent cuddles. This has the more adult kind of cuddling. ;) Many thanks to [nocookiesjustbooks](http://www.whofic.com/viewuser.php?uid=12104) who went above the call with her mad beta fu. Written in 2011.

Rose slipped on her coat over her pyjamas and pulled on heavy boots. The summer was moving quickly on toward fall, and at three in the morning, it was bound to be a little nippy outside. On an impulse, she grabbed an apple from the kitchen before heading out across the large lawn of the Tyler Compound, in search of the Doctor.

She hadn’t seen him all day, which wasn’t unusual enough to really be a cause for alarm. She’d checked in his room next door to hers before she’d headed to bed a couple hours ago, but he’d not been in. She hadn’t heard him come in since, so there was really only one place he could be–the simple outbuilding they’d converted into a lab for him. No, she wasn’t alarmed, but she was _concerned_.

It’d only been a month since his... creation, and he wasn’t entirely accustomed to being partly human. He ate randomly instead of regularly and slept even more infrequently, so it seemed. He hated to be looked after, but she knew if she didn’t step in on occasion, he’d run himself to exhaustion almost without noticing.

She pulled down the hood of her coat as she walked across the grass. The wind was blowing cold against her face as she hurried towards the Doctor’s lab. The small building had no windows and no light shone through the security door, but she was fairly certain he’d be inside, tooling away at his computer or some gadget. She’d shared a sandwich with him here yesterday. He’d been in a grumpy mood, frustrated with something he hadn’t wanted to talk about, but accepted her company and food with a smile that still, without fail, made her feel a little weak.

The security door was fitted with an alarm, the code of which had 42 digits, revolving around a mathematical equation that changed every day depending on the position of the earth on its axis. He’d tried to teach Rose the code, but she was hopeless at the maths it required and had given up. Thankfully, the door was also fitted with a bell.

She pressed the button and waved at the little camera that was sending her image to the computer inside. After a moment, the locks disengaged with a loud click and the heavy door swung open.

The Doctor was sat at the desk across the room, frowning at something on the monitor.

“Hello, Rose,” he said, without looking up.

“Hi,” she answered, shutting the door and hanging up her coat. She walked to the desk and perched on it, beside his mouse pad. He still didn’t look up. “You busy?”

“Yeah.” He took up a pen and started scrawling furiously on a nearby pad of paper. “I’m nearly...” he trailed off, distractedly.

She tossed the apple towards his writing hand and he caught it automatically, without even dropping the pen. He finally looked up at her.

“What’s this?”

“An apple,” she said, unnecessarily.

He shrugged and took a bite. “Thanks,” he said, while chewing.

She watched, somewhat fascinated, as he went back to what he was doing, clicking the keyboard or mouse with one hand, making notes with his other, pen and apple held together.

When he’d finished the fruit, she tried again. “It’s 3 am.”

“Is it?”

“You plan on finishing up any time soon?”

“Yes. I said I was nearly done.”

He hadn’t actually, he’d only begun to. She stood up, and snatched the apple core out of his hand. She tossed it into the bin behind her. “Doctor, look at me,” she demanded.

He did.

“When was the last time you slept?”

He looked at her blankly. He was clearly well past tired, getting on to exhausted.

“You have to sleep. You can’t keep working like this day and night; you’ll run yourself into the ground.”

He laid down his pen and took her hands in both of his, conveying his gratitude. “Thank you, Rose, really. I appreciate the concern. But I’m fine. Honestly. I just have to sort out this one thing. It’s been escaping me since yesterday. I’m very close to figuring it out. I promise.”

“And _then_ you’ll come inside?” she asked suspiciously.

“Well,” he paused, apparently thinking. “Then I have a whole host of other things to figure out, but this is the biggest hurdle. So it may be a while after that.”

“Doctor!” she scolded.

He sighed. “Look,” he said, pointing to the corner. “There’s a camp bed there. After I finish this, I’ll take a nap, all right?”

Rose looked dubiously across the room. There was, indeed, a small dusty-looking camp bed in the corner. She’d never noticed it before. And no wonder, as it was covered with books and wires and papers and other things she couldn’t identify.

She huffed and then marched over and unceremoniously began to clear it, sticking things on a nearby shelf or on the floor. The Doctor, she noticed, went back to work. When the camp bed was all cleared off and clean and began to resemble a surface where one could actually sleep, she called out to him.

“Hmm?” he answered, distractedly.

“Come on,” she urged gently, “call it a night. I’ve cleared the bed.”

“Thanks.”

“Doctor...”

“Soon. I’m nearly done, Rose.”

“Oh for God’s–” She stalked back across the room, intending to _demand_ he take a break, but he held up one hand, commanding silence, and she stopped. His eyes were wide, then squinty behind his glasses as he clacked feverishly at the keyboard. _Donna's typing skills?_ she wondered idly as she waited for him to pause, to take a breath.

“Damn it!” he suddenly yelled at the monitor, causing her to jump. He threw off his glasses and slammed the keyboard in frustration before pushing his chair back from it and furiously running his hands through his hair.

“Hey,” she said soothingly as she swivelled his chair away from the computer to face her. “Listen to your Rose. You. Need. A break.”

“You don't understand,” he protested. “What I'm working on, it's–”

“ _Now_ , Doctor. Don’t make me unplug this computer.”

They stared hard at each other. She thought she must look a bit of a mess; boots and pyjamas and bed head from when she’d tried to sleep earlier. He, she observed, was rumpled, barefoot and jacketless, but in his wrinkled suit and loose tie still so... _Doctor_. Finally, after what seemed like forever in their silent battle of wills, he sighed in defeat.

Snagging that small victory, she grabbed his hands and hauled him out of the chair. He let her pull him to his feet but otherwise wouldn't be moved. Instead he pulled her into a tight hug. He clung to her desperately, so tense he was almost shaking.

“Whatever it is,” she said after several long moments spent just holding each other, “it will be fine.”

“Oh Rose,” he breathed in a sigh against her hair. It sounded like half immense gratitude and half, _you could never understand_. But soon she felt him begin to relax against her.

“Come on,” she said again. She disentangled from him and he allowed her to pull him toward the camp bed.

He looked at it, then back at her.

“Just a small nap, yeah? Then you can go back to your work.”

He made no move towards the bed. But the look he was giving her... She tried to ignore it. She knew he was thinking of the last time they’d shared a bed, their first night back together in this world. Innocently holding each other until an early dawn broke over Norway. He probably was, like her, thinking of the other, much less innocent nights as well, long before they’d been separated by a white room and the void between universes.

She sighed and reached up for his loosely knotted tie. “Do I have to do everything?”

She was not, she told herself, seducing him. That’s not why she was here. Her guilty fantasies of sex on the TARDIS were at last giving way to more... terrestrial fancies. So if she _were_ seducing him, she’d do it in her own bedroom, or his, like she’d been imagining, not his cluttered workshop.

“Rose,” he said softly and stilled her hand at his neck after she’d untied the knot.

Before she could respond, he was kissing her. _Thank God_ and _finally_ part of her whispered as she kissed him back, sighing into it, giving herself over. He kissed her carefully, slowly urging her lips to part beneath his, stroking his tongue against hers in a dance that made her feel dizzy. When he groaned against her, she reluctantly pulled away.

He was too tired for this. She told him so.

“I’m not _that_ tired, Rose,” he said, as if she’d offended his masculinity.

She couldn’t help it; she giggled helplessly and wrapped her arms around him in another hug. She felt him kiss her forehead, smile against her hair.

“You sure?” she asked.

He pulled back enough to see her face. “If you are.”

She was. There was no reason not to be anymore. They were the Doctor and Rose. A slightly different Doctor to the one she’d known years ago, just as she was a different Rose to the one that ‘died’ at Canary Wharf. And she wanted all of him.

“We could go back to the house,” she suggested. “Do this properly?”

“Absolutely not,” he said firmly, whipping her t-shirt off of her in the blink of an eye, and then fastening his lips to her neck.

“Oh,” she said, a little breathlessly. “Okay.”

His hands quickly found her breasts, teasing her nipples to hardness, and this was suddenly, _really happening, right now_.

“Slow down,” she gasped, when one of his hands began to slide down her stomach towards the waistband of her pyjama trousers.

He froze and dropped his hands from her, stepping away. He looked at her, wide-eyed and flustered, breathing heavily, and looking by all accounts, painfully aroused.

She shook her head, closing the space between them again. “I didn’t say stop,” she said softly, reaching for the buttons of his shirt and beginning to undo them.

He glanced at her hands as if he didn’t comprehend their movements.

“Sorry, I just...” he said after she’d finished the task and pulled the shirt from his trousers. “I thought... maybe get to it before you changed your mind...”

His insecurity was endearing, and somehow as sexy as his confidence. She smiled up at him before placing a soft kiss on his chest, over his rapidly beating heart. “Why would I?”

He shrugged.

She unbuttoned his trousers, but didn’t touch the zip. Instead she sat down and pulled at her boots.

He took a deep breath. “After that first night, in Norway. I thought... I mean, I thought we would go back to... Nothing had changed for me, you see.”

She didn’t. She cocked her head questioningly, trying to understand what he meant.

“Except that everything had, obviously,” he went on. “What I mean is, nothing had changed for me, as far as how _I_ felt about _you_.”

Ah.

“And then I brought you home, stuck you in a guest bedroom, and was just your best mate again?”

He nodded. “Something like that.”

“Well...” she said slowly, considering her next words carefully, knowing a lot hinged on them. “Now I’m taking off my pants.” She made good on her word, removing pyjamas and knickers in one go.

He guffawed, and when he got a hold of his laughter, he shrugged off his shirt, shoved his trousers hastily down his hips and off and then hopped onto the camp bed with her, pushing her beneath him.

They both froze as the springs shook and protested, but seemed to hold.

He kissed her deeply, until she was squirming beneath him and clutching at the sheets. He was everything she remembered, and as she felt his erection, oh so insistent against her thigh, every bit of her remembered just how good he was at _this_.

He broke the kiss, panting as he pulled away enough to look at her, and brushed her hair out of her face with one hand. “Are you sure about this going slow thing?”

“Hmm.” She pretended to consider. Then took his hand in hers and guided it between their bodies and then between her legs.

He drew in a sharp breath when he felt how wet she was. Then he smiled in delight as brushed his thumb across her clit, making her gasp. And then, with little warning, he plunged two fingers inside and she arched beneath him. A few thrusts in and out of her heat and impossibly, she already felt an orgasm coiling inside her. It really had been a _long_ time.

“You can,” she breathed out, trying to telling him to fuck her, and please right now, but words felt like a foreign and confusing concept. “I mean, you... I don’t. I don’t have to...”

He paused and pulled his hand away, looking down at her in confusion. “Um...” he asked, “what?”

She laughed, pleased for the breather, and for the slight returning of coherency. “Make love to me?”

“Right. Yes, I will of course. It’s just... thought you might first like to...” He paused, took a deep breath and then looked up at a point on the wall above her, it seemed. “I’m sort of human.”

“I do know that.”

He slid his legs fully between hers, groaning at his cock sliding against her wetness, but still he didn’t look at her. “I might be...” He cleared his throat. “Uh, quick.”

She hadn’t really considered whether or not his humanness would affect his... performance, but she guessed he had, and was holding back because of it. She kissed his neck and threaded a hand into his hair. With her other hand she reached between them again and positioned him at her entrance. Bringing her lips to his ear, she whispered the first thing that came to mind. “I am going to come, Doctor. You always make me come.”

It was, apparently, the right thing to say because he growled. _Growled_ at her and shoved his hips against her, thrusting hard inside her, filling her completely.

She gasped and he forced himself to pull back slowly, as if in apology for his roughness.

“More,” she commanded.

“ _Yes_.”

And then he was bending her knee deeply and sliding back in, deeper than before, and with just the pressure against her clit, the fullness of him inside, and she was immediately back on the edge. She hadn’t lied, wasn’t just stroking his ego. She needed this as much as he did.

His pace was fast and stuttered and she didn’t care. A handful of strokes and she was throwing her head back, arching, coming, harder than she had in forever.

He didn’t pause or let up, just kept pounding at her, finding his rhythm, and the groaning springs, his grunts of exertion, the wet noise of him inside her, the sight of him beautiful and straining, all filling her senses, as, impossibly, she felt the coil tighten in her again, before she’d even caught her breath.

He came then with a shout that made her thankful they _hadn’t_ opted to return to one of their bedrooms. He’d have woken the whole house.

She whimpered and desperately moved beneath him, as with his last shuddering thrust she tipped into a sort of oblivion, her body overloading from the second onslaught of pleasure.

When she opened her eyes a few moments later, he was on his back and she cradled against him, both their breathing still laboured, her body still singing with mild aftershocks.

“Told you,” she managed after about a minute or so.

“You’re amazing, Rose Tyler.”

_Me?_ she wondered, but simply returned his contented grin.

She snuggled against him, and through the comfortable haze of post-coital drowsiness, a thought occurred to her as she laid a hand over his single heart, now beginning to slow to normal. “Is it any better? Having just the one?”

He said nothing for a moment, a look of something like sadness coming over his face. Then he plucked her hand from his chest and kissed her palm.

“With you,” he said, as he reached up and tapped a light switch that she hadn’t known was above the cot, plunging the room into darkness. “It’s better with you.”

>>>

When she woke, she knew it was well into morning. The first thought she had after that realisation was that she was too old to have to a face a walk of shame back into her parents’ house. Her second thought was that the small space beside her in the narrow bed was empty and cool. She snapped to alertness, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed.

“Doctor?” she called out, pulling the top sheet of the bed around her as she stood.

“Here, Rose.” He was back at his desk, hands again moving furiously over the keyboard. He was clad only in his trousers, his hair impossibly rumpled by sex, sleep, and probably his hands dragging through it at intervals ever since he’d woken up. Her heart skipped a beat.

“This,” he exclaimed as she approached him, “is _brilliant_! I’ve figured it out. That one equation I was missing to make the whole thing work. It was like... like it was behind this lock that just needed undoing. It came to me as soon as I woke. All I needed was some sleep and...” he paused and looked at her, smiling his sexiest grin, “... the right inspiration.”

He reached out a hand and yanked her into his lap. She squealed in surprise and delight and wrapped her arms around his neck. “If shagging makes you think of equations,” she said, “I think I’m doing it wrong.”

He giggled, that noise of pure joy she so rarely heard, even in the way-back-when days, and then he dove for her lips, snogging her good morning.

When they came up for air he grinned at her. “Are you ready for this?”

“For what?” she asked, a little breathlessly.

He pointed to another corner of the room she hadn’t much noticed before. There, lying innocuously, surrounded by some sort of metal framework, was the piece of TARDIS coral the other Doctor had given him. She’d all but forgotten it. This Doctor had told her it was little more than a memory and a paperweight. It would never have life, never grow into a ship, never fly.

“Watch,” he whispered hotly into her ear.

He pressed one more key on the keyboard triumphantly, and a faint but familiar hum filled the air. And as she watched, the tiny bit of TARDIS began to throb in time to the pulse. And the lifeless rock began to glow a vibrant, living, green.

“It’s–?”

“Alive,” he finished. “She’ll grow, now.”

“The Doctor, Rose, and the TARDIS?” she said in wonder.

“Oh yes.”

They watched silently together for a few moments before she felt his lips slide to her neck again.

“You know,” he said, slipping into a bedroom voice she'd not heard properly in ages. “She'll need an hour or two on this charge cycle. We really should stay close by.”

“Hmmm,” she hummed, shifting in his lap. “Whatever will we do with our time?”

 

FIN  


* * *

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.  
  
This story archived at <http://www.whofic.com/viewstory.php?sid=43104>


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